Felix Felicis
by rasvu
Summary: Oneshot. During their seventh year, while in hiding with all the Dumbledore's Army in the Room of Requirement, Seamus and Neville together brew felix felicis. The outcome surprises only one of them.


**Challenge: Maria from Ravenclaw's The Person Before You's OTP Challenge**

**I felt extremely good writing this. I hope you all enjoy this little oneshot. **

It was past midnight and most of their friends were either sleepily browsing through the many books of the Room of Requirement or settling in their hammocks, hung in all the free spots between walls and stone posts. Some of the girls tended to their pets and some of the boys found at least a bit of relax and pleasure in listening to whatever was transmitted on the radio, or conversing about Quidditch. Such were the usual evenings spent inside the Room of Requirement while outside the Deatheaters ruled the school as well as the respectable professors who tried – as much as possible – protect the innocent students from the brutal fate.

With Dean gone, Seamus felt very lonely. He had always had that sort of an impression of himself being influenced too much by those around him. He was the last to have joined the Dumbledore's Army two years back and the last of Harry's classmates to believe what he was saying about the return of Lord Voldemort. And Seamus was a fierce person; once taking in a point of view, he would hold on to it against the odds and stand loyal. But now helping out was the best he could do to take his mind off of what was about to happen in Hogwarts very soon. He could feel it in the bones that within that school year the battle would move to the castle and there would be many victims. That is precisely why he presented his uncanny idea to Neville.

„I think we should brew some felix," he had stated once, sometime around the end of September, as he and Neville were reluctantly nibbling on toasts brought for everyone from Aberforth the night before. The food was getting sloppier each time but no one could complain or blame the old man – he had enough of his own stress with the pub _and_ getting the hungry students their food. Of course, everyone paid as much as they could from the money each had withdrawn before, just in case.

Neville's response was surprisingly positive. "Brilliant, let's do that," was what the other said and Seamus needed to add nothing more to his idea. "I just wish we had Hermione around... At least she could successfully go through the necessary books and, you know, direct us somehow. We can't afford to fail," the boy was right. Seamus nodded and they sat in silence for a while. "I'll talk to Aberforth," was what he finally said and stood up, walking over to the portrait.

Now, they were as close to completing the potion as ever. After six long months and with a dozen of small cast cauldrons standing securely in the furthest corner of the room, Seamus and Neville felt the chills moving down their spines. The only thing that was to do was to pour the golden liquid into the vials. It was as if sacred. So many people working on that, so much brainstorming done and so much patience managed to finally come to such end. Seamus felt proud. And he had to admit the very smell of felix felicis made him want to get at least a tiny drop, if it was to only last for an hour. He wanted to – at least for a moment - feel careless in this time of danger.

"You hold the vial and I pour it in," Neville walked up to the cauldrons and passed Seamus the tiny transparent bottle with a cork and sat himself across from him, the cauldron between them both. Seamus only nodded and put on a pair of leather protection gloves to keep himself from any accidental spills or fallouts. He raised his eyes to see Neville's furred eyebrows and the determination in his eyes. The other had grown to become someone extraordinary. From a boy, scared to step up and show whatever he had under his sleeve, show what kind of a person he could be, from a boy who didn't have a person to believe in him, Neville grew to become one strong individual. With all the trust from his friends and encouragement from the Dumbledore's Army, he managed to develop his courage, just as a Gryffindor should. Seamus hoped they could both survive the war to come.

They poured felix in complete silence. At the seventh cauldron, everyone else was already to sleep and both the boys could only hear occasional snores echoing in the chamber. They only exchanged slightly amused looks at a particularly loud one and got back to their work.

Within two hours they were finally done. An army of a hundred and twenty vials or felix felicis stood before them, neatly arranged in rows inside a large wooden potion box, as Seamus and Neville sat against the cold stone wall, their legs stretched out on the floor. They contemplated their work for a minute more and Neville finally stood up slowly, walking towards the chests where they kept their food and drinks to fetch them both a bottle of pumpkin juice. They did deserve such a reward – pumpkin juice was held for special times, otherwise everyone drank water. Sitting down next to Seamus with a deaf thud, the other handed him the beverage and they both downed their bottles within seconds.

"We need to clean the cauldrons," Neville spoke first, again, and reached out for his wand. Seamus could only nod, but just as his friend wiped out the remains of the potion from the first three cauldrons, the boy caught the other's wrist to stop him. Neville turned towards him and Seamus could see the confused expression on his face. "What?"

"I want to try a spoon. Just a tiny little spoon. We have worked so hard-"

"No. End of story," Neville cut him short and withdrew his hand, but Seamus could see the reluctance in the other's eyes.

"But why?"

Neville sighed, looking at Seamus with something between worry and irritation. "How can you know if it makes us stay in this room if we drink it? What happens if it makes us leave?"

Seamus could not answer that. He only shifted his eyes to the cauldron that Neville continued to clean. After a few minutes there was only the last one left and at that point Seamus couldn't control himself. He punched Neville in the hand that kept the wand and made the wand fly across the room just to land somewhere by the food trunks with a characteristic sound.

"Are you out of your mind?!" the other got to his feet and wanted to go get his wand, but Seamus caught the hem of his Gryffindor sweater, making the boy sit back down.

"I don't care what happens. I can feel there won't be anything wrong about us having a mere spoon. Even half a spoon, I guess. Harry told me that Slughorn said just two spoons last for a whole day. Let's just spend the rest of this blasted night in peace, carelessly," Seamus urged Neville to at least look at him. He could see the reluctance fading in his friend's eyes.

It took Neville two minutes to scratch off enough felix felicis to make a whole spoon. Seamus' heart rate sped up when the boy finally held out his portion to him, and he could see Neville's hand shake nervously. He caught the other's wrist.

"Let's get done with this," he heard Neville's grumpy response and freed the boy's wrist, himself unceremoniously downing his half of the spoon of golden liquid. The amazing scent of sea water, gunpowder and pine trees overwhelmed his nostrils for a couple of short moments and as if through mist he saw Neville sit motionlessly. He returned his look with just as dizzy expression.

It all made sense. It made perfect sense when he went up to the fireplace and fetched a thick wool blanket. It also made sense that when he sat down and threw it over them both, Neville took hold of his hand and began to warm it with his both bigger ones, making Seamus sigh with relief.

"Sometimes I feel scared," he said, looking up at Neville who only nodded, now keeping Seamus in his embrace and stroking his arms. Seamus thought for a moment and then spoke again. "I feel scared that I might lose someone I care for. Mum, friends, all of you guys... I'm also scared I won't be brave enough. What do you think?" He asked, not really expecting any sort of an answer.

"I'm not scared at all," Neville spoke and Seamus immediately sat up straight, surprise painting over his pale face. "I'm only sad. Sometimes. I'm sad so many have already died and we here are still alive, not really able to help any of this horror to end. I'm sad to know the fear is everywhere now," Neville said and before Seamus could react, he could feel the other's hands cup his face. He also felt Neville place a kiss on his forehead and Seamus gulped loudly, feeling his cheeks burn as he turned his face away from his friend. It should make sense... right?

"I'm sorry," Neville said casually and he merely embraced his friend, making Seamus bury his flushed face in his sweater. "Let's go to sleep. There's another busy day tomorrow."

Seamus' heart took a while to regain its regular speed of rate. He felt that Neville's breath became slower and more shallow as the boy's stomach moved up and down below his chest. He calculated something motionlessly for a brief moment and he moved up to face his sleeping friend. Seamus brushed his lips against Neville's and sunk down yet again, closing his eyes, trying to instantly fall asleep. The only thing he felt before descending into the darkness was the embrace being tightened around his shoulders. He slept well that night.

**Thank you for reading. If you enjoyed, please spare a moment to review!**


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